She Never Says His Name
by Rogue Vader
Summary: This is a revision of a fic I wrote at the end of September 2006. After Jack's death, Kate and Sawyer have a physical relationship, but Sawyer knows he's not the man Kate wants.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lost or ABC, nor am I in any way affiliated with them. If only.

**Author's Note: **I went to the _So You Think You Can Danc_e show Saturday night and I've been so jazzed – it was pure magic - that I haven't stopped smiling since. To cope with my excess energy I wrote this, and even though I'm buzzing with total fan-girl glee, this piece of slightly unhappy angst is what came out. So, **WARNING – **this story is one of underlying Jate with actual Skate. If you absolutely loathe the idea of Kate doing _anything_ with Sawyer, then be kind to yourself and close this window right now. But, if you enjoy yourself some one-side jangst every now and again – sans obligatory happy ending – then by all means, read on.

**Amended Author's Note: **In light of the six episode mini-arc I wanted to come back and tweak this story a little bit. It is now a one-shot purely from Sawyer's point of view. Sorry for any typos.

**She Never Says His Name**

_**Sawyer**_

The ocean crashes against the shore, like a soothing lullaby sung beneath the night's blanket of winking stars. It's been hot this week so we've been sleeping on the beach, where the breeze off the water can cool our fevered skin. Half the camp has followed our lead, taking comfort beneath the jungle's shade by day and stretching out beneath the open sky at night. Pockets of snores and incoherent mumbling crop up to disturb the otherwise tranquil scene. And here and there I hear someone curse the humid night and groan in sleepless agitation.

But despite the heat, she's cradled protectively against my bare chest, her body snug against mine. One of my arms is draped over her slumbering form, the other is a makeshift pillow for her sleep-warmed head. She doesn't move around much, holding one position through much of the night, and most times my arm goes numb, but I try not to disturb her. Not when sleep is so hard to come by.

This has been our arrangement, our way of living, for almost two weeks. We don't talk about it, don't give it a label, even when everyone around us is asking for one. It's just what we do, and people will either accept it or they won't. I personally don't give a damn either way, but Kate likes to maintain our little island dwelling's equilibrium, so I try not to rock the boat too much these days. Only as absolutely necessary.

Kate whimpers in her sleep, breaking the stillness and quiet that has so uncharacteristically fallen around us. It sounds like a name, but I don't try to hard to figure out whose it is. I'm sure I already know, and it's not mine. So I glance at her profile and watch the grief play itself out across her tense features, where no one's eyes but mine can see.

The moon is so bright I can see the beads of sweat glistening above her top lip, count the freckles that dust themselves across her nose. Unexpectedly, tenderness grips me and I fight the feeling just like I have for most of my life. I want to kiss her, to brush my lips across the softness of her cheek, or maybe just soothe the furrowed skin across her brow. I don't want to do it just to score another round between the sheets, I don't even care if she wakes up. I just want to comfort her, let her know, even in dreams, that I'm here.

And that scares me. I don't want to care about her this much, to want her this much. Because I know she's not mine, that she never can be, and that the only thing we're doing here is passing time.

"_I'm coming with you." Kate is on her feet, her face carved in determined lines._

"_No." Sayid raises a hand, his voice firm. When he speaks he addresses us all, but he looks directly at Kate."I'm going alone. It will be easier that way."_

_Kate refuses to buy his line. She doesn't quite roll her eyes, but I can tell she's one word away from shoving Sayid in the chest and taking off without him. Her stubborn jaw is out in full force and she's got that expression on her face that I like to call 'the fugitive look'. But instead of bull-rushing straight ahead she continues to pack her gear with jerky, spasmodic movements._

"_You'll need help. I can track, I can shoot. I know where we're headed." She stands up and looks him in the eye, no nonsense now. "And I'm going with you."_

"_Kate, we've tried large parties before, it doesn't work. We need to go back and rethink our plan. I'm going to scout the area again, see what new measures they've taken to keep us out. It will be safer for all of us if I go alone."_

_Sayid speaks calmly, his rationale making sense even to me. But Kate doesn't always listen to reason, and she never does when it concerns Jack. Her mouth is open, ready to argue around in a circle for the tenth time, and I decide I've had enough. No longer able to stand by and watch them duke it out, I step firmly between Sayid and Kate's wrath. I grip her elbow and pull her toward me, bending my head toward her ear. She resists, seems uncomfortable with my touch, but I ignore it and act like there's nothing wrong between us. She gives one final jerk of her arm, but even her capable strength is no match for mine._

"_Leave it alone, Freckles." I speak quietly, hoping what I'm sure is a vain hope, that she'll actually listen to reason. "Sayid's right, we need a new plan. Nothing we've tried so far has done any good."_

"_But Jack..."_

"_You won't help the doc by rushing off and getting yourself another dart in the back." I glance over my shoulder at Sayid who smiles gratefully. I nod once and manage to pull Kate a few more feet away._

"_Trust Sayid," I whisper. "He's a soldier, he knows what he's doing and he can take care of himself."_

_The words seem to strike a chord within her and the wall of anger that's been holding her up for the last three days dissolves. She's still reluctant, I can feel her resentment like a physical presence burning her up from the inside out, but she presses her lips together and nods her head. Willing, at least for now, to wait._

_I don't try to hide my relief and smile at her with undisguised pleasure. "I'm glad you've seen reason. Now, once Sayid gets back we'll figure everything out. Then we'll get Jack, I promise."_

_I let go of her arm and take a step back. For a moment she stands next to me, her eyes searching mine as though I hold the answer to some question she's been asking herself for days. But if she finds what she's looking for I don't know it and she doesn't say anything more. Instead she turns her back on me and strides toward the beach, to pace with barely leashed impatience and to be alone with whatever thoughts and worries are eating her up._

She stirs in my arms again and this time her eyes flutter open. For a moment her body stiffens with surprise, like she can't quite remember where she is. I wait it out, just holding on until her body slowly relaxes and she turns her head to look at me.

Her face looks so soft and her lips are full with sleep. She smiles lazily, her eyes still bleary, and rolls over until we're facing each other. Unconsciously she rests a hand against my chest, her fingers curling into a loose fist.

"Have you slept?" Her voice is thick from disuse and she clears it self-consciously.

"Nope. I haven't slept a wink." I smile, though it probably looks more like a leer, and lean closer. The invitation is blatant but I've never been a man for subtlety. I've been wide awake for hours and now she is and we're beneath a star-lit sky with only the sleeping waves for company. What's not to like?

But she doesn't bite, only laughs quietly and shakes her head in exasperation. Even just awake she's careful not to disturb anyone else's sleep, to make too much noise. The hand on my chest gives me a playful shove, and the smile on her face is genuine, but she doesn't move in for the kiss. It would be a lie if I said I was surprised.

"You looked like you were having a nightmare." I change the subject, try to keep my voice from sounding accusing. "You want to talk about it?"

The smile slips from her face, just for a moment, replaced by a defensive blankness and it's like staring at a chalkboard wiped clean. You know the words were there, but they've been erased, leaving only blurred hints behind.

But before she can give too much away the smile is back, wider than before. "I was having a nightmare?" she asks, suddenly teasing. "I must have been dreaming about the time I let you trim my hair."

I groan like I'm supposed to, dropping the real subject, and slap a hand over my eyes. "It was _not_ that bad."

"Not that bad?" She puts her other hand on my chest and tilts her head back to look more fully at my face. "It looked like some animal had decided to crawl up on my head and die. I thought Claire was going to have a fit when she saw me. The whole time she was fixing it, I heard her muttering about how many different ways she was going to hurt you."

"Well, excuse me for not graduating first in the class at beauty school."

Kate chuckles and the smile she gives me is soft and, for an instant, I catch my breath. It almost makes me want to forget that what we have isn't anything more than friendship with benefits. That, at the end of the day, we're just two lonely people trying to find comfort in one another. And that, just like every other time, she never confides in me when I ask her what's wrong.

_She's facing the ocean, her back to the rest of the camp. She's been sitting there, just like that, for hours. Ever since Sayid returned from the Other's camp with a bullet hole in one leg and the news of Jack's death._

_It didn't sink in at first, not for any of us, and without a body it still doesn't seem quite real. Jack was one of those people who seemed invincible. Sure he'd get hurt and things might happen to him, but at the end of the day he always turned up. Like an unlucky penny, maybe ragged around the edges and a little worse for wear, but always whole._

_But that isn't true anymore, and suddenly there's one less certainty on this island to cling to._

_I stare back across the beach, to where Kate sits. I haven't seen her move, no one has, but we're all sure she must have, though we can't quite figure out how. Jin brought her fish, left them at a discreet distance so she could take them or not. Rose walked by earlier this morning and though I saw no words exchanged, she set her cross in Kate's open palm. I saw the chain blinking in the morning sun before Rose curled Kate's fingers closed and pressed a kiss to Kate's knuckles._

_I'm not big on symbolic gestures and because I figure she's been alone long enough, I decide it's about time someone tries to talk to her. I approach slowly, giving her plenty of time to signal that I'm not welcome. With each careful step I search for the words that will put her at ease – if they even exist – and won't send her tumbling into some dark, netherworld of emotion none of us will be able to reach._

_I know the exact moment she senses my approach, I can see it in the way her shoulder's stiffen and the muscle that starts to work in her jaw. But she doesn't shift away, doesn't hunch forward to withdraw even more from the outside world and turn further into her self. Even when I'm at her side and sink into the sand beside her she doesn't say anything. I take it as a good sign and brace my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands together._

_We sit in silence for a few moments and I wonder if that's all she needs. Maybe just someone to sit next to her, a physical presence that's comfort is just in being there. But I've never good at emoting comfort so I turn toward her, wary of leaning in too close._

"_I'm sorry, Freckles."_

_She doesn't glance my way, doesn't even acknowledge I've spoken. And though I've been watching her for hours, I finally look at her, really look at her, and notice for the first time that her face is dry, her eyes clear. I expected tears, redness, something to let me know that she's grieved and cried. Some hint that she's done something other than hold it all in. But there's nothing. Her face is like unmarked stone, blank and unreadable._

It's just before dawn and we've moved back into the tent. I've learned the hard way that even a good tan won't save you from a bad burn if you sleep too long under the sun. So we stumble into our tent, almost drunk from fatigue, and lay out our blankets, settling down to finish out the early morning with some privacy. It takes us a moment to get comfortable and she ends up huddling next to me, her face against my chest. I start to say goodnight, despite the the hints of dawn creeping across the horizon, but stop short when I see her face. She's got that look in her eyes, the one that says she doesn't quite know where she is or how she's gotten here, or why the journey's hurt so much. The look comes less often than it used to, but I doubt it will ever truly go away.

There are no words to help her, at least none that I can find, so I grip the back of her neck and pull her close and comfort her the best way I know. With lips and teeth, with stroking hands and husky murmurs. And she's desperate enough, lost enough, that she accepts. Just like she's done for near on a month. But despite appearances, and pleasurable groans to the contrary, it's Jack she wants and we both know it. Yet, somehow, neither of us dares to say it out loud. Maybe we're trying to pretend or maybe we're both just so used to just getting by that what we want doesn't matter anymore.

It's these times that I'm never quite sure who's using who. If we're both using each other, or if it's all human nature and we're just keeping each other alive. But I do know that I always give in and let myself get carried away to that place where we both let ourselves live in that place governed by 'what if'.

Kate's a beautiful woman and I've wanted her almost from the first moment I saw her. And maybe I should feel guilty, but I can't help but think that, for the split second it takes, that I got her. That, in the end, she's here with me in a way she will never be with Jack. But every time that thought slithers across my mind, a little voice inside my head always whispers that I'm a fool. I've got nothing but sand slipping through my fingers and they had each other in the way that really counts.

Then I think how that suits me just fine. This is all I want and I'll take it, no matter what her reasons for giving it. And why should it matter to me anyway?

Our second time, that first time after captivity, happened three weeks after we learned of Jack's death. Afterward I held her close while she cried. I don't remember how long I cradled her against my chest, knowing what I had to give would never be what she truly needed. I don't know how long she wet my chest with her tears, but I can still feel the way her body shuddered, how hard she worked to swallow the sobs that wracked her body with such force I thought she was going to break. I'm still surprised she didn't fall to pieces right there in my arms.

It was the first time I saw her cry and if she's shed a tear for Jack since I haven't seen it. If I'm honest, I prefer not to.

I shake my head to clear the distracting thoughts and smile just before Kate leans against me, runs her hands through my hair and caresses my cheeks. She brushes her lips over mine, soft at first then harder, more insistent . Like she's convincing us both how much she wants me, and that the passion is somehow enough to heal us both. And in the end she holds me close, her eyes squeezed tight, and sighs. But she never says my name and I wonder if maybe what we're doing might just bring more pain in the end.

_It's been two weeks and she's starting to smile again. Not as much as she used to, not as much as I was able to make her to before, but a little bit. I keep trying, though. Little jokes here and there, light jabs to let her know that, even with Jack gone, there's still a life for her to live. People who want her to live it._

_We're sitting by a fire, and I'm throwing bits of leaves and grass into the rising flames, a practice that somehow passes for a good time these days. She's next to me, staring at the waves with her shoulder brushing mine. She wants that now, the human contact. I'm not sure if she does it for comfort, or if she just needs to remind herself that she's still alive. Either way I'm here and happy to oblige. I'd give her more and she knows it, one day she might even take it, but for now I wait._

_Part of me resents it, this pining for Jack. I mourn him, too, I won't lie to myself about that. We didn't always get along but – even when I said I'd watch him die before I'd help him – I never really hated him. But now he's gone and Kate and I are still here, going on just the same as if he were alive. _

_For lack of anything better to do, I decide to put my arm around her, pulling her close. I convince myself it's nothing more than a friendly gesture and hope she takes it as such. To my surprise she doesn't resist, even drops her head to rest on my shoulder like an exhausted child. She sort of melts then, and it feels like relief, like she's been waiting for me to do just this since the day we learned Jack died. I don't question it, only feel a bit guilty that I didn't do it earlier, gave her this kind touch. To ease my conscience I tighten my hold just a little bit, bring her just a little closer until I can feel the heat of her seeping through my shirt to warm my skin._


End file.
